


The Pick-Up Artist

by teh_kris_eh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, F/M, Fluff, Fred Weasley Lives, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione Granger & Pansy Parkinson Friendship, House Elves, Idiots in Love, Ministry of Magic Employee Hermione Granger, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Epilogue Compliant, POV Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson is a Good Friend, Pick-Up Lines, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, Weasleys Witches & Writers With Love Weasley Fest 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teh_kris_eh/pseuds/teh_kris_eh
Summary: How Harry had thought that gifting Fred Weasley a book of muggle pick-up lines for Christmas was a good idea was beyond her. Hermione knew the instant the book was unwrapped that it was a bad idea. What she wasn't prepared for was being the only one that Fred chose to test the pick-up lines on.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 58
Kudos: 121
Collections: With Love Weasley





	1. Boyfriend Material

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [With_Love_Weasley](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/With_Love_Weasley) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  Cheesy pick up lines galore, but somehow, they're working? Character A is using ridiculous pick-up lines on B and B is falling for them for some unknown reason (we know the reason--suppressed feelings is the reason). As Valentine's draws nearer the pick-up lines get more ridiculous until A makes a grand romantic gesture and B is helpless and has (wants) to say yes.
> 
> As always, thank you to [LivininCorsets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LivinginCorsets) for being a wonderful friend and Alpha/Beta. Any remaining errors are my own!

She was seriously contemplating killing Harry Potter. 

A slow and painful death would be preferable. No _Avada Kedavra_ for him - his death would be too quick and painless for her liking in that case. And at this point, she _really_ thought he deserved to suffer. He may have been able to survive against Voldemort, but he wouldn’t get so lucky against her…

Ok, so maybe she was being a _bit_ dramatic. She could admit that. But she had to question why Harry had thought that it would be a good idea to give Fred Weasley, of all people, a book of muggle pick-up lines for Christmas. 

She had known it was a mistake the moment that stupid book had been unwrapped. 

Of course, Harry wouldn’t be on the receiving end of those pick-up lines, so she supposed that he thought it wouldn’t be a problem for him. And, to be fair, he had been right. Until now. Now, she would make it his problem.

Surprisingly, it had only really turned out to be a problem for her. For some reason that she could not understand, it seemed as though Fred had made it his mission to try out as many pick-up lines from the book on her as possible. And she was seriously beginning to doubt that he would stop tormenting her when he ran out of ones from the book.

Her luck just wasn’t that good.

She had hoped for a quiet day of shopping in Diagon Alley. It was New Year's Day, so she figured that most people would be having a bit of a lie-in after all the celebrations the night before. Her goal was simple - get in and out before the crowds hit later that afternoon.

She _really_ should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

“Hey, Granger! Feel my jumper. Know what it’s made of?”

She stopped in the middle of the cobblestone street with a groan, tilting her head back toward the sky and offering up a silent prayer to Merlin, Morgana, and Godric _freaking_ Gryffindor for patience. She knew that it would be best to let him catch up to her and just get this over with. She had learned from experience that he would just cause more of a scene if she ignored him. Better to face this head-on.

She turned around and thankfully found that he was not too far behind her. She pulled her cloak around her a little tighter as she waited for him to close the gap between them, shielding herself from the cold breeze that whipped through the streets. She was just thankful that it was not snowing.

“Hmm...let me guess,” she replied when he reached her, running a finger lightly down the front of his dark blue jumper. “Fred, is that _boyfriend material_? Wherever did you manage to find that?” she asked in mock surprise before she rolled her eyes at him and resumed walking.

“Cheeky witch.” Fred winked at her and slung his arm around her shoulders. “This is actually the jumper that mum made me for Christmas this year. So it’s just made out of plain old wool, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you chased me down the Alley just to show me your newest Weasley jumper - which I have already seen. And it obviously had nothing to do with wanting to try out one of those new pick-up lines of yours.”

“I didn’t _chase_ you. And maybe I just wanted to find an excuse to chat up a pretty witch.”

She scoffed and shrugged his arm off. “If that were true you certainly wouldn’t have come to talk to _me_. I’m sure you passed at least a dozen pretty witches on your way down the street to annoy me.”

“Well, I certainly didn’t see a dozen pretty witches on my way to annoy...I mean... _find_ you. But maybe there’s something wrong with my eyes. I can't seem to take them off of you whenever you’re around.”

She groaned. There was cheesy, and then there was _cheesy_. And she had pretty much set him up for that one. “Do you ever stop?” 

“Nope. What are you up to, anyway?” Fred asked, slinging his arm over her shoulder again. She chose not to shrug his arm off this time. It was cold, after all, and he was much warmer than she was. Who was she to turn away extra body warmth?

“Just running a few errands,” she replied with a sigh, hoping that the pick-up lines were out of his system for now. “Already picked up everything I need, but I was thinking about making a stop by Flourish and Blotts before I head back home. I have the rest of the day free, so...”

“Well, I’m on my way to grab some lunch at the Leaky. Care to join me?”

She nodded. “I could eat. But only if you promise that there will be no more pick-up lines today.”

He raised an eyebrow in response to that. “Just today?” 

“I know better by now than to press my luck and hope for anything more long term than that. Aim low, and you won’t be disappointed,” she deadpanned.

He laughed. A full belly laugh that probably would have had him doubled over if he had not had his arm still around her. She couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face in response to his laugh. It made her even happier to know that something she said had brought out that laugh from him.

The war had been hard on all of them. And for a while, she had been worried that the aftermath of the war would break him and George. Fred had been in residence at St Mungo’s for almost six full months due to the near life-threatening injuries he sustained during the final battle and then spent another six months doing out-patient physical therapy. Even now, nearly seven years later, he would end up with a slight limp by the end of the day if he pushed himself too hard. 

During the first few months following the war, before going back to Hogwarts to complete her studies and take her NEWTS, she had spent quite a bit of time visiting him in the hospital. 

Hermione had taken it upon herself to make sure that George took care of himself and occasionally went home to eat and sleep while his twin was recovering from his injuries. If it had been up to him, he probably never would have left Fred’s side. But Hermione nagged him enough that he eventually gave in, and she would take over for him to make sure that Fred was never left alone.

At first, he had mostly slept while she was there. But over time, they started talking. And even when she left to go back to Hogwarts she had made a point to write to him at least twice a week to make sure that both he and George were alright.

Their friendship had grown over the years, and she was thankful that things had not turned out worse than they had for all of them.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” he replied, snapping her back to the present moment as he led her in the direction of the pub. “Come on, Hermione. I’ll even buy your lunch.”


	2. Mine

It had been a long day. A long _week_ , actually. And although Hermione was exhausted and would have preferred to spend a quiet Friday evening at home snuggled up with a book and Crookshanks, she was happy to get to spend some time out with her friends. Even if it was just an excuse for them to drink at the Leaky. She could always feign illness to leave early if it all got to be too much.

She sighed as she leaned against the bar, waiting for Tom to make his way over so that she could order their drinks. She had been nominated by Ron to get the first round and simply hadn’t had the energy to argue. 

She had never been more excited for a weekend off. The week had been stressful at best and had made her seriously contemplate leaving the Ministry at worst. Five years after joining the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and Hermione never truly felt as though the work that she was doing was making a difference. 

Logically, she knew that she had helped make at least a few small positive changes over the years. She had proposed several laws that had passed pretty easily that increased the quality of life for house-elves. Harsher punishment for wizards and witches who abused their elves, though still not harsh enough in Hermione’s opinion. A relocation program for elves that were mistreated or were freed by the families they worked for. Requirements for better living conditions for the elves in the homes where they worked, wages, and personal time off. All of which sounded good on paper, but in reality, had proven much more difficult to track success rates. 

It was the mixed results, at best, that caused Hermione to doubt the impact that the programs made. The relocation program in particular tended to have a lot of problems. 

She had learned a long time ago, through a lot of research and personal interviews with countless house-elves, that simply freeing the elves was not a realistic solution. The elves had a very real magical bond with the families that they worked for, and breaking the bond without bonding them to another family could cause substantial emotional trauma. Winky, the Crouch’s former house-elf, was a prime example of this and had led to them hiring a Mind Healer to help ease the transition for elves that needed it.

While the elves that were part of the program were temporarily bonded to either the Ministry or Hogwarts, they needed to establish a permanent bond. Unfortunately, there were now more house-elves that needed positions than there were witches or wizards who were willing and able to take them in, especially with the new laws in place. 

“Three Fire Whiskeys, three glasses of Elf Wine, and a Gillywater please, Tom,” Hermione ordered as she placed the appropriate amount of coins down on the bar when Tom finally made his way over to her. She tensed when she felt someone sidle up next to her, but relaxed a bit when she heard a familiar voice. 

“Hello, beautiful. Do you have a name? Or can I call you _mine_?” Fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her when she turned to glare at him. He grinned, likely able to tell that there was no venom whatsoever behind her glare. 

“Hi Fred,” Hermione replied with a sigh, not really in the mood to play along with whatever this game of his was tonight. His grin fell from his face when he seemed to catch on to her less than stellar mood. She had always been easy to read, and it was harder to hide her emotions after a long day. 

“Well, I’m not going to bother asking if everything is alright. Because clearly, it’s not,” he said as she watched him take in her tense posture. She squirmed slightly under his scrutiny as she tried and failed to force herself to relax. “Anything I can do?”

“You wouldn’t happen to know of, let’s say, forty witches or wizards who could take in a house-elf or two and can meet or surpass the minimum requirements of the new protection laws, would you?” she asked, playing with the stack of coins on the bar. “We’re having a bit of a problem finding matches for the elves in our relocation program.”

“Not asking for much, are you?” Fred replied with a soft chuckle, gently bumping his shoulder against hers. A small smile crossed her face. 

“Not much at all - just a small miracle. Honestly, I’d be happy just to see Winky matched to a good family at this point.”

“Winky...that name sounds familiar. Was she one of the Hogwarts elves?”

Hermione nodded, surprised that he would remember. Then she recalled how often Fred and George would sneak down to the kitchen to get food for the many parties hosted in Gryffindor Tower over the years. 

“She started at Hogwarts in my fourth year after she was freed by Mr Crouch. Unfortunately, she didn’t take to it well. When we started the program we brought her in and set her up with our Mind Healer, which seemed to help her a bit. But she still hasn’t been placed and bonded with a family. She’s been bouncing back and forth between the Ministry and Hogwarts ever since. I’m worried about her.”

“That sounds rough. I’m sure that you’ll find a family for her soon.”

“I sure hope so,” she responded as Tom finally returned with the drinks she ordered on a small tray. “I’d bond with her myself, but I only have my studio flat which unfortunately doesn’t have a spare room that would meet the minimum requirements for a house-elf living space.” 

She gave Fred another small smile. “Thanks for letting me rant a bit. I needed that. See you at The Burrow on Sunday for dinner.” She levitated the tray of drinks and headed across the pub to her friends. 

When she arrived at the table she directed the Fire Whiskeys to Harry, Ron, and Neville. Two of the Elf Wines went to Ginny and Hannah, the third to herself, and she smiled brightly as she passed the Gillywater to a heavily pregnant Pansy, who glared at all of them.

“I _really_ can’t wait until I can drink again,” Pansy practically growled as Ron draped his arm across the back of her seat with a shite-eating grin on his face. “Cheers, arseholes.” 

Hermione couldn’t help but giggle at the former Slytherin, earning her another growl from her. She raised her glass in reply to her toast, before catching Fred’s eye across the pub. She raised her glass in his direction as well before finally taking a drink.


	3. Expelliarmus

Hermione stepped through the Floo at The Burrow, dusting soot off of her at the hearth. She hadn’t even fully exited the fireplace before she was cornered. He must have been waiting for her, which was more than a little worrisome. 

“Did you just say _expelliarmus_? Because your smile is disarming, Hermione.” 

She rolled her eyes. At least it was just a pick-up line and not a prank. “I can only assume that this means that you finally made your way through all of the muggle pick-up lines from that stupid book. Did you come up with that one, or is there a book of wizarding pick-up lines as well?”

“Thought it up all on my own.” Fred grinned, obviously proud of himself. “Well, Georgie helped a bit. He’s been using some of the naughtier lines on Angelina.”

It wasn’t a surprise that there had been some inappropriate pick-up lines in the book that Harry had given him for Christmas, but she found it interesting that Angelina was being subjected to this weird game by George as well. She had always appreciated that Fred never used a line on her that was inappropriate, but felt a little bad for Angelina.

“But George already has Angelina. No lines needed, right? I mean, they’re married.”

“Some wizards have all the luck…” Fred muttered under his breath. _What did that mean?_ It was said so softly that Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that she hadn’t been meant to hear it at all. Her eyebrows furrowed as she noticed the tips of his ears had gone pink before he awkwardly cleared his throat. “Anyway…want to hear some of the other ones we came up with?”

“I have a feeling I’m not going to have a choice in the matter, am I?” 

Though she had grown a little tired of whatever this game was, she was willing to admit that some of the lines had been at least a little amusing. Not that she would tell him that, of course. 

“Well...no, not really,” he admitted with a wink. “These ones are pretty good if I do say so myself. Which I do.”

“Alright then, let’s hear them.”

Fred rubbed his hands together, clearly excited. “If you were a Dementor, I’d become a criminal just to get your kiss.” 

Hermione groaned and then chuckled lightly. “Absolutely terrible. What else have you got?”

* * *

Dinner at the Burrow was chaotic. It always had been, of course. But over the last few years, as the Weasley siblings had coupled off and started families of their own, it had become even more so. 

Hermione fondly remembered the summers spent at the Burrow during their time at Hogwarts. It was funny to think that what she thought was crowded and chaotic then, now seemed to be peaceful and quiet in comparison to the current situation. 

Not that she would trade this for anything. 

After the war ended and the last of the Death Eaters had been rounded up and placed on trial, she had gone to Australia to find her parents in hopes of restoring their memories. While she had been able to find them, the Healers that she consulted with - and she had consulted with many - had all agreed that the memory charms she had placed on them could not be reversed without causing significant permanent damage to their minds. 

She had felt adrift when she returned to England, unsure where to go and without a clue as to what she wanted to do with her life. Molly and Arthur took her in and had made her an honorary Weasley. Though she had long ago moved into a flat of her own, the Burrow still felt like home.

While it was always nice to see everyone at the weekly dinners, it was also draining. Hermione quietly made her way out the back door and into the yard, needing a minute of quiet. 

Looking around, she saw that Pansy had seemed to have a similar idea and was currently sitting on the low wall surrounding the garden. She had just made up her mind to join Pansy when she heard the door open again and turned to see Fred making his way toward her. She turned back to look out at the garden and the orchards as he came to a stop beside her. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were following me, Fred Weasley,” Hermione said softly, afraid of speaking too loudly and disturbing the peace that she had escaped the house to find.

“And what if I _was_ following you, _Hermione Granger_?” Fred asked just as softly as she had spoken. She was so used to a loud and mischievous Fred that his softer and gentler tone took her by surprise. It was so different than their conversation earlier in the night, and for some reason, it set off a light fluttering feeling in her stomach that left her feeling a little flustered.

She shook her head lightly in hopes of clearing it, which proved unsuccessful when Fred wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close against his side. “You know our love would be one for the ages, Hermione. Not even Snape could Severus apart.”

She couldn’t help it - she nearly doubled over in laughter, thoroughly amused and caught off guard. She certainly had not been expecting a line based on _Severus Snape_ of all people. She could picture the sneer that would have appeared on his face if he knew what had just been said. 

Hermione straightened up, composing herself as she leaned into Fred’s embrace. She glanced up at him and was a little surprised to see what appeared to be genuine happiness at her reaction. She expected to see mischief or smugness at getting her to react to one of his lines in some way other than obvious annoyance. But this was something different. Something pure, raw, and open. 

He smiled down at her with a look of fondness on his face, and she could feel the colour rising on her cheeks in response. Her stomach fluttered again and she quickly looked away, all of a sudden feeling very exposed and vulnerable. It was overwhelming. She needed an escape.

“I, umm...I need to go talk to Pansy about...something,” she mumbled quietly. She ducked out from under his arm and made her way across the yard to the garden to join Pansy, choosing not to turn back around to look at Fred even though she could feel him watching her as she walked away. Pansy narrowed her eyes at Hermione as she approached. 

“Pansy, just... _don’t_. Please?”

Pansy gave her a calculating look and shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Granger.” She patted the wall next to her. “Have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about how Ronald annoyed the shite out of me this morning so that you can pretend to care and can avoid whatever, or rather _whoever_ , it is that you’re avoiding.”

“Thank you, Pansy,” Hermione responded quietly as she sat down next to her, thankful that Pansy seemed surprisingly willing to cooperate for now. 

“You realize that this makes me the _best_ friend, right?” Pansy asked with a smirk as she transfigured her scarf into a blanket and spread it over both of their laps. “You know Weaslette would not give in to your shite this easily. She’d meddle and then force you into some confrontation, like the reckless Gryffindors you all are. It’s time to admit that having a snake in the lion’s den is helpful, Granger.”

“I am _not_ going to play into whatever rivalry you and Ginny have, but you know I appreciate you. Now tell me, what did Ron do this time?”


	4. The Single Twin

“You better have brought something good with you, Granger,” Pansy snarked as Hermione exited the Floo and stepped into the townhome that she and Ron bought after they were married. 

“Brought your favourite, actually,” she responded, holding up a paper bag that was stamped with the logo of her and Pansy’s favourite Chinese restaurant. 

It had become a mid-week tradition for Hermione and Pansy to get together for dinner. Ron was assigned the late shift for the Aurors on Wednesday nights, and while Pansy had not previously minded being on her own for the night, they had all quickly learned that _pregnant Pansy_ should not be left alone for the whole night. 

Pansy grinned at her as she grabbed the bag out of her hand, unpacked the paper containers from the bag, and placed them on the table. “It’s your favourite too, so don’t act like you did this just for me.”

“Fine, you caught me,” Hermione replied as she sat down and opened one of the boxes, grinning as she inhaled the delicious aroma of one of her favourite dishes. “I just like to use your pregnancy cravings as an excuse to enjoy good food as well.”

Pansy nodded as she stole the box from Hermione with a smirk. “So, care to tell me what the weird tension between you and the single twin was about after dinner the other night?”

“ _The single twin?_ ” Hermione’s voice cracked when she repeated Pansy’s words back to her.

“Yes, _the single twin_ ,” Pansy said, looking like the cat that got the cream. “Please tell me the ridiculous pick-up lines that he’s been using on you aren’t actually working. Granger, you are better than that.”

“What? Of course not,” Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s _not_ the pick-up lines, trust me.”

“Well then, what _is_ it?”

“It’s…” 

Honestly, that was a good question. She wasn’t even sure if she knew _what_ it was. Was this still just some weird game to him? The look on his face before she essentially ran away to hide with Pansy may have indicated otherwise, but could that be true? And how did she even feel about him?

Ok, so maybe _that_ question was easy enough to answer. 

It was relatively simple when she took into account the fluttering feeling in her stomach that she first felt the other night and had since felt every time she thought of him since then. _That_ had led her to realize that she thought of him quite often, which she supposed should have been telling enough. 

As for when those feelings started...well, she had always thought that he was an attractive wizard. But he was so much more than that. He was charismatic, kind, and incredibly smart. And he had never failed to make her smile, no matter how bad her day had been. He brought out a fun and relaxed side in her that no one else had ever been able to. He gave her life balance.

Over the years he had become one of her closest friends. And she had somehow missed when her feelings of friendship had evolved into more. 

Of course, that didn’t matter since she wouldn’t be acting on any feelings that she may have for him. Not unless she was certain that he felt similarly. Which she highly doubted. He was just having a laugh. And while he may care for her, it was likely just in the same way that he cared for Ginny. 

While Pansy had been willing to let it go when they were all at The Burrow for dinner a few nights prior, she didn’t seem like she would be agreeable to doing so again. 

She took a deep breath and sighed. “It’s complicated. The whole situation is complicated and a little weird.”

Pansy gave her an appraising look and shook her head. “I’ll give you weird, we are talking about one of the twins, after all. But I’m sure it’s not _really_ all that complicated. You’re probably just making it more complicated than it needs to be. You tend to do that.”

Hermione didn’t want to admit that Pansy may be right, but she _did_ have a pretty big problem with overthinking and overanalyzing every situation. She always had. And while that certainly helped during school and the war, it wasn’t necessarily the most helpful thing for her everyday life. 

She groaned, resigned. “You may have a point.”

“Of _course_ I do,” Pansy smirked. “Now, tell me why you think it’s so complicated and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”


	5. Why

Hermione _hated_ full department meetings. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hear updates from each division within the DRCMC. _She did_. But she had found her job equally fascinating and frustrating from the very beginning, and full department meetings always managed to remind her of that. 

Some of the work being done to rehabilitate injured creatures, for example, was brilliant. 

_“The new dragon reserve in Wales took in four Ridgebacks that had been injured by poachers last month. They are expected to make a full recovery and plans are being made to safely release them back into the wild.”_

On the other hand, some of the restrictive regulations that _still_ existed for house-elves, goblins, and werewolves, as well as countless other creatures and beings, made her want to scream and throw things. And the lack of empathy and support from the wizarding community as a whole was disheartening.

_“The price of the Wolfsbane potion has increased 15% over the last year, leading to over 75% of the reported werewolf population unable to access it due to cost alone. Our efforts to put a restriction on the maximum price or to find financial backing to allow for the potion to be distributed to those in financial hardship free of charge or heavily discounted have been unsuccessful.”_

She had joined the DRCMC with big dreams of making radical changes that would better the lives of all magical creatures and beings. Sadly, she had not had nearly as much success as she had hoped she would have accomplished. 

While her role was officially that of a liaison to other departments within the ministry and the muggle government, she often tried to assist with other projects when possible. 

She was never able to get that far before her efforts to help were shut down. She had been told on more than one occasion by her department head that while her passion and dedication were commendable, that she needed to reign herself in and let others do their own jobs. Full department meetings just reminded her of how little she could actually _do_. 

The one division that always welcomed her with open arms was the team that had been put together after one of the proposed laws about house-elves she had worked on passed. She, unfortunately, did not get to work with them closely often, but they were always happy to hear her latest ideas and update her on the state of things when she popped in to ask.

_“We are still actively looking for wizards and witches to bond with the elves in the relocation program. However, we are excited to say that over the last two weeks we have had thirty elves permanently bonded to their new families!”_

Hermione’s head snapped up in surprise. Last she had heard there were just over forty elves that needed to be relocated, and that number had been holding steady for months. The fact that the number had dropped by nearly 75% in two weeks was nothing short of a small miracle. The program had not seen such a significant positive result since it was started almost five years ago. 

She wanted more information but knew that she wouldn’t be able to get it during this meeting. She would be shut down immediately. She would have to wait until afterward when she could drop in on the team and find out more. 

* * *

Hermione sighed as she signed off on the last of the reports that she needed to submit before the weekend. She cast a quick glance at her muggle wristwatch and seeing that it was nearing the end of the day, grabbed her cloak and bag before heading over to visit her co-workers in the house-elf division.

“We wondered if we would be seeing you before the end of the day,” Tracey Davis said in greeting as Dennis Creevey grinned up at her over a mountain of paperwork that covered his desk as she entered their small office.

“I would have come by right after the meeting this morning, but I got pulled into another meeting right after and have been buried under a pile of paperwork ever since. Something it looks like Dennis understands all too well,” she smiled at the pair before losing her composure and bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement. “Now, tell me about the relocation program! How many elves still need permanent placements and do you know what caused the shift in the last two weeks? Last I heard, there had been forty elves needing placement and that had been the case for months...”

Tracey chuckled and held up a hand to stop her questioning. “Deep breath, Hermione. I promise we’ll tell you everything we know.” She transfigured a box into a chair and gestured for Hermione to sit down. 

Hermione grinned at her co-workers, tossed her cloak haphazardly across the back of the chair, and obediently took a seat. “Well, go on…”

Tracey shook her head lightly. “Fine. So, as I mentioned in the meeting, we had thirty elves find permanent placements in the last two weeks. We actually had one more bonded to a wizard this afternoon, so we have nine house-elves still in need of placement at the moment.”

“That’s amazing! Do you know which of your marketing efforts led to an increase in placements?”

“It wasn’t one of ours, actually,” Dennis piped up from behind his pile of paperwork. “Which I’ll admit is _a little_ frustrating, but since the results are so good we can’t complain, can we?”

“Not one of yours? Then what -?”

“- could possibly have led to such a large jump in the number of placements when there was no movement at all for months?” Tracey cut her off, finishing her thought with a smirk. “You, apparently.”

“Me?” Hermione gaped, confused. “How do you figure? I haven’t worked on any of the house-elf projects in years.”

“To be fair, I suppose not _all_ of it can be attributed to you alone,” Tracey said, clearly enjoying herself. “And we did just find out about _your_ involvement earlier this afternoon. But you certainly got the quaffle in motion.”

Hermione’s eyebrows furrowed as she thought things over. She couldn’t remember mentioning the relocation program in any of her meetings recently. None of this made sense.

“Stop toying with her, Tracey,” Dennis chuckled as he stood to file away some of the paperwork. “Just tell her. She clearly doesn’t know what you’re talking about.”

Tracey groaned. “You take away all my fun, Dennis. Alright, Hermione...have you had a conversation with the owners of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes recently?”

Hermione frowned slightly, still unsure as to where this conversation was going and feeling a little on edge about it. “Sure. I mean, I talk to Fred and George pretty often. I go to dinner at The Burrow every weekend...”

“Of course. Though that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“What Tracey is trying to say, is that whenever we have someone come in to request a house-elf from the program, one of the questions on their paperwork asks how they heard about it,” Dennis said, taking pity on Hermione and taking over the explanation. “Every applicant we have had over the last two weeks, up until this afternoon, listed Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes as the point of referral.”

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up on her forehead. That was certainly surprising. Fred and George hadn’t mentioned anything about any of this the last time she saw them. “That’s great that they’ve been referring people to the program, but I still don’t see where I supposedly fit into this.”

“Well, as Tracey said, we didn’t realize that you were involved at all. Until Fred Weasley stopped in this afternoon and put in his own request for a house-elf.”

“And put _you_ down as the point of referral,” Tracey continued with a wide grin on her face. “Naturally, we wanted more information out of him considering the number of applications that came through with Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes as the referral point. So, we got to talking…”

Suddenly, it hit her. The Friday night outing at the Leaky almost a month ago. She had mentioned the problem that the relocation program was having to Fred that night. She had even jokingly mentioned that he could help if he knew about forty people who would be interested in bonding with a house-elf. 

So that explained how he knew about it. But…this still didn’t make any sense.

Had he actually made a point of bringing it up to people that he thought would be interested? He must have, to get that many people to come in and select an elf to bond with. It couldn’t have been just random conversations. It had been too successful for that to be the case. But... _why_?

“...and then he asked if Winky had found a placement, and when we told him that she hadn’t he specifically requested her.”

“Wait…” Hermione’s heart skipped a beat and that damn fluttering feeling was back in her stomach. “He...he bonded with Winky?” 

If possible, Tracey’s grin grew wider when she nodded in response. 

Her eyes widened as she took in that information. She had specifically mentioned how she hated that Winky had been in the relocation program for so long. How she would have bonded with her herself if her living situation could have allowed for it. _Why would he do all of this?_

“I...I need to go,” Hermione said quickly, grabbing her cloak and bag, before rushing out of the office.


	6. The Finest Catch

“Where is he?” Hermione demanded, eyes blazing and hair practically sparking with a life of its own. George quirked an eyebrow at her in response from behind the till he was manning and she had to refrain from growling at him. “Don’t play dumb with me, George Weasley. Where is Fred?”

She had debated going home to try to figure out what Fred was up to and why over a glass of wine. But somewhere between the DRCMC and the Floo in the atrium she changed her mind and decided to just confront the issue head-on. 

“Merlin, Hermione, are you alright? You’re a bit scary right now...”

It had been a while since she had done something this impulsive. She usually took the time to think everything through before confronting any problems. But something had snapped when Tracey and Dennis told her about Fred requesting Winky from the relocation program. 

She was willing to admit she probably looked a little insane right now. She certainly felt more than a little on edge, and her hair certainly took on a life of its own in the best of times. She could only imagine what it looked like now.

“Just answer me, George.”

George held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. He went upstairs to the flat about an hour ago, but…”

Hermione didn’t let him finish before she made her way through the workroom door, out the back, and up the staircase that led to his flat. She pounded impatiently on the door until she could hear a muffled voice from the other side and the click of the lock. The door had barely opened before she elbowed her way inside the flat. 

“Hermione!” Fred exclaimed, sounding genuinely happy to see her. “Wasn’t expecting you to stop by, love. I must ask, are you a Snitch, because you’re the finest catch…” he trailed off and his eyebrows shot up into his hairline, clearly just having caught on to her weird mood. “Hermione, what’s wrong?”

“I…” 

Of course, now that she was here, standing in front of him, she had no idea exactly what to say. Her adrenalin dropped and she suddenly felt very silly and more than a bit overwhelmed. She watched as he looked her over, and was surprised by the obvious concern that she felt rolling off of him. 

“I’m confused,” she finally admitted lamely. 

“Alright, well...why don’t you have a seat on the sofa, I’ll make us some tea, and then we can figure out whatever is confusing you, yeah?” Fred asked as he rubbed a hand up and down her arm in a comforting manner. “Between your brilliant mind and my creativity, I’m sure we can get it all sorted.”

She nodded and let Fred lead her into the living room where she sat and waited while he was in the kitchen. A few minutes later he levitated two mugs of tea and a small plate of chocolate biscuits onto the low table in front of the sofa and sat down beside her. 

He was so close. 

She had not been this close to him in a few weeks, and it had been before she realized the extent of her feelings for him. She felt her cheeks start to warm. She could feel some kind of electric energy in the small space between them, and she wondered if she was just imagining it or if he could feel it too.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Fred appeared to be perfectly at ease other than that he seemed genuinely concerned about her. Now that the adrenalin had left her system, Hermione felt more than a little silly about how she barged into his flat and was embarrassed and didn’t know how to start the conversation that she now had forced herself into. 

He seemed to be content to wait out her silence. It was a legitimate strategy. She had used it herself over the years with Harry and Ron when something was obviously bothering them and they didn’t want to talk about it. She was already fidgeting and knew that it was a lost cause. She just needed to get the conversation started. Surely things would be easier once she started talking. 

She set her mug down on the table and turned her body so that she was facing him. “I had a meeting at work today with some of my co-workers.”

He drained the last of his tea and set his mug down before mirroring her movements to face her as well before nodding at her to continue. 

“My co-workers who work in the house-elf division had some really good news to share in our department meeting today,” she continued, watching for a reaction of any kind out of him and not seeing any. “The relocation program, in particular, is doing incredibly well right now.”

“Is that so? That’s great news,” he replied quickly. Too quickly. And there it was. The tiniest tinge of pink on the top of his ears. She had him. “So…”

“ _So_...I am a bit confused and curious as to why the point of referral for all but one of the bondings that have happened in the last two weeks came from your shop.”

“Shite,” he grumbled under his breath. “Dennis just couldn’t keep his mouth shut for a few more days…”

“Tracey started it, actually, but Dennis filled some things in. So, want to tell me what all of that is about?”

He shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. “That night at the Leaky when I ran into you at the bar you mentioned that the program wasn’t doing that well and that you needed about forty people to bond with elves. I just wanted to do something to help, so I’ve mentioned it to a few people.”

“ _A few_? Fred, there have been over thirty house-elves bonded the past two weeks, and all but one of those were referred by you. Or you and George. I don’t know. And the one referral that wasn’t you...was actually you requesting a _specific_ elf for yourself, one that we have had a problem finding someone to bond with since the program started, and put my name down as the referral. I already figured out that you wanted to help. But I can’t, for the life of me, figure out _why_? 

“Can’t you, though?” Fred asked softly as he raised his hand and gently tucked some of her erratic curls behind her ear. “You’re absolutely brilliant, Hermione. Can you really not think of one reason why I would want to do everything in my power to help with something that I know you care so much about?”

She looked at him, searching his face for any sign that this was a joke, and finding none. He was looking at her like she was the most important thing in the world, and it was overwhelming in the best way. He leaned in even closer, and she felt like she was surrounded. Instead of feeling panicked like she normally did whenever anyone got too close following the war, she felt safe and supported. 

He closed the last of the distance between them and gently brushed his lips against hers in a sweet kiss. She practically whimpered when he pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. It was one of the more chaste kisses that she had ever had, but she felt more in that one short kiss than she had ever felt in any other that she had experienced. 

“You’re not like other witches, Hermione,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers one more time before straightening back up and taking one of her hands in his, twining their fingers together.

“I knew that if I wanted to have any chance with you, I would need to do something more than shower you with flowers or sweets. Because, well, you’ve mentioned before that while flowers are pretty, you find them impractical, and you would probably not have trusted any sweets that I would have given you. Not that I could blame you for that,” he chuckled to himself. “The first thing that I tried clearly didn’t work...”

She furrowed her brow in confusion at that. There had been something else that he tried to do to get her attention?

“The pick-up lines,” he replied to her unasked question. “Harry gave me that stupid book for Christmas and told me that they were a common method of letting a woman know you are into her in the muggle world, and that women find them to be highly romantic. Since you are muggle-born, I thought that you might have appreciated the gesture of me trying something from the muggle world…”

Hermione laughed at that, breaking the tension in the air and relaxing them both. “Wait... _Harry_ managed to prank _you_?”

“I have to give it to him. Not many people can get one past me and George,” he replied with a grin. “To be fair, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that the pick-up line thing was a load of rubbish…”

“Then why did you keep using them?” Hermione stopped him before he could continue. She had been wondering about the silly pick-up line thing for too long to not ask about it when the opportunity presented itself.

Fred shrugged. “Honestly, by that point it was fun and while I didn’t necessarily _need_ an excuse to talk to you, it didn’t hurt to have one that appeared to be a joke to keep some of the others from getting too suspicious. You know how mum gets, and Bill is just as bad.”

She raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Bill? Really?” 

He nodded. “He’s a right sap and he meddles in everyone’s business. He’s the one that set Percy and Oliver up on that ‘blind date’ that finally got them together, but that’s the only time his meddling has ever done anyone _any_ good.” 

“Anyway...the pick-up lines clearly didn’t work, so I knew I needed to try something else,” he continued, now gesturing wildly with the hand that was not holding hers. “You gave me the idea when we were all at the Leaky that one night and the rest is history. I had planned on asking you over for dinner next week for Valentine’s Day and telling you all this then, but Tracey and Dennis killed those plans. It’s a shame...Winky seemed excited about menu planning.”

“Well, I’m sorry that your plan got ruined, but I can’t say that I’m _too_ sorry about it,” she grinned at him before she leaned in and captured his lips with hers. She smirked, pleased and more than a little smug when he groaned in response and dropped her hand before tangling both of his hands in her curls. This kiss was not as gentle and sweet as their first. It was playful and light and was quickly deepened when she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, earning her another groan from Fred. 

“I’m not either,” he murmured against her lips a few moments later.

“I’d still be interested in that Valentine’s dinner that you mentioned. If you’ll have me, that is.”

Fred hummed his agreement. “I _suppose_ that can be arranged.”


	7. Epilogue: The Mirror of Erised

**One Year Later**

Hermione ran her hands down the dark blue fabric of her dress in an attempt to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles. 

She was _a little_ on edge. 

Fred had taken charge of planning this date and refused to tell her where they were going or what they were doing. While she trusted him completely - he had even told her early on in their relationship about his and George’s pact to never prank their significant others - it always made her a bit nervous to give up control, even if it was just for a date. 

The only hint that she had received was to dress up. She shook out her arms in an attempt to wiggle out some of the tension she was holding, which was at least a little successful, before tucking her wand away in its invisible holster on her forearm and exiting their bedroom. 

_Their bedroom_. 

George and Angelina had moved into the flat above the new Hogsmeade branch of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in September prior to the grand opening during the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. A month later, Fred asked her to move in with him, which she had readily agreed to and they quickly put her flat on the market. She had discovered early on how nice it felt to wake up next to him in the morning, and was very happy to now be able to do so daily.

She entered the living room, expecting to find Fred but instead found Winky waiting for her. “Missy Hermione, Master Fred is waiting for yous on the terrace,” Winky said with a curtsy.

Hermione smiled and politely thanked Winky. She exited the flat to the balcony and climbed the stairs to the rooftop terrace. 

The terrace had quickly become her favourite spot in their flat. It had a wonderful view overlooking Diagon Alley and there was a small garden growing several key ingredients that were used in many of the products sold in the shop. 

When she came out onto the terrace she gasped in delight. Fred had truly outdone himself. The terrace was decorated with fairy lights in a variety of soft colours. In addition, a small gazebo had been added next to the garden, which held a table for two covered in what appeared to be most of her favourite foods. 

“Hello, love,” Fred greeted softly as he wrapped one arm around her waist from behind and moved her hair to one side so that he could place a sweet kiss on her neck. 

“Hello, yourself,” she replied, turning in his hold so that she could face him, draped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. 

He hummed in contentment, but pulled back and grabbed one of her hands to lead her toward the table so that they could eat. Dinner was delicious - Winky was an excellent cook - and they chatted about anything and everything, enjoying the easy conversation that flowed between them as they ate. 

After dinner, Fred waved his wand and soft music started playing from somewhere. He bowed and held out his hand, the picture of a proper gentleman except for the mischievous glint in his eye and that adorable grin that she had come to love on his face. “May I have this dance, love?”

“You may,” she smiled up at him and allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her onto a small makeshift dance floor right outside the gazebo. He pulled her close and they swayed slowly in time with the music for a bit before he dipped her, causing her to laugh when they nearly lost their balance and just managed to catch themselves before they toppled over. 

Fred righted them both before he took a step back and grabbed hold of both of her hands. 

“Hermione, the past year with you has been the best year of my life.”

“Mine too, Fred,” she replied quietly and tried to take a step closer to him when he stopped her. She frowned slightly, but he quickly reassured her with a smile. 

“Sorry, love. I just want to say something first, and you know you distract me when you are that close,” he said with a wink. She chuckled and nodded for him to continue. 

“Hermione, if I were to look into the Mirror of Erised, I’d see the two of us together.”

“You do realize that you don’t have to use pick-up lines on me anymore, right?”

“Oh...that wasn’t meant to be...I mean, I suppose it could be. I’ll have to add that to mine and George’s list…” Hermione squeezed his hand and smiled at his rambling. He was _nervous_. That was new. 

“Anyway...that wasn’t meant to be a pick-up line, love. It’s the truth. If I were to look into that mirror right now I would see the two of us together, growing old, with a couple of kids running around and making mischief.”

Her breath hitched and she felt tears forming in her eyes as he dropped her hands and reached into his pocket before dropping down to one knee. 

“Hermione Jean Granger, I want to spend forever with you. I’m sure that I will annoy you constantly and you will lecture me on how to be a proper adult once we hopefully have a family of our own, but I want that with you more than anything. Will you marry me?”

She nodded, unable to speak through the tears. She knelt down with him and kissed him soundly. 

“Just confirming...that was a yes, right?” Fred asked with a laugh.

Hermione laughed through her tears. “Yes, you silly wizard. Of course I’ll marry you!”

He slipped an elegant and simple platinum band with a lovely princess cut diamond onto her finger with a proud smirk. It was perfect. She grinned at him, overwhelmed by the feeling of joy that she would get to spend the rest of her life with this wizard. 

Silly pick-up lines and all.


End file.
